


The couple that slays together

by Rococo92



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek and Stiles are serial killers, M/M, Rape/non-con is not explicit and mentioned in passing, explicit descriptions of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rococo92/pseuds/Rococo92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are both serial killers in Beacon Hills, sensationalized in the media. They've never met, but have healthy respect for each other's work. Then, Stiles starts copying Derek and Derek kills one of Stiles' chosen victims before Stiles has the chance. Stiles starts investigating and finds out who Derek is and they finally meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The couple that slays together

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prompt by raisesomehale (tumblr)  
> "why is there still no fic where derek and stiles are serial killers who’ve only heard of each other through the media and try to “out do” one another with every murder they commit before finally meeting and fucking in their first shared victims’ blood like c’mon guys it’s 2014 this fic should exist" 
> 
> So yeah, basically that. 
> 
> Warnings:  
> Graphic description of murder, one involving the use of dildo's.  
> Reference to rape  
> Graphic description of sex at the end.

“Good evening, I’m Tim Roth with the eight o’clock news here on CBW. A disturbing murder case has resurfaced. Most of you will remember the "Howling Wolf" murders in Beacon Hills from five years ago. The Argent family, with the exception of Allison Argent, was found in their family home, with peculiar bite marks littering their bodies. Police were unable to identify the suspect and the name “Howling Wolf” caught on. Today, the body of a young man was found in the woods. Police have issued no official statement as of yet, but witnesses say they saw bite marks.” 

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the screen. For years, his dad had been looking for this “Howling Wolf” guy. Seriously, what kind of name is that, anyway? At least his was cool. He pulled his dad’s file closer. The bite marks were similar to those left on the Argents. No DNA left behind, of course, and no discernable source of the bite to speak of. 

Stiles had to admit the guy was pretty good. Over the last five years, Stiles has linked at least ten other murder cases to “Howling Wolf”, solely based on the bite marks. It’s a good thing for the guy that Stiles doesn’t work for the police. He might have had to catch him. 

Still, killing Matt Daehler. That upsets Stiles. He wanted to take that asshole out himself. 

“And now, here’s Lucy with the weather predictions for the coming week.” 

 

\-------

Derek hunches over the sink, cleans his skin with soap and alcohol. He’s long since perfected a mixture that removes the blood easily without damaging his skin too much. It’s a common mistake. Derek likes his skin attached to his body, thank you very much. 

He’s in the news again. Matt Daehler’s body was found by a jogger in the woods just like in some cheap whodunit. Derek kinda likes the classics though. He left it right beside the most popular running path, after all. God, Matt Daehler. What a little shit. Stalking Allison Argent like he had any right. Like he was the one who had killed her whole family. As if he’d have had the balls for that. No, he just stuck to his camera, staking her out in his car, following her everywhere. It was getting pathetic. Derek hates pitying others. It makes him feel weird. Feel like stabbing someone a thousand times, or like breaking every bone in their body. Huh. Maybe he’ll save that for the next one. It’ll give the forensic scientists a field day, writing down every single thing wrong with their body. Maybe he’ll get a new name, too. 

Something like the Mountain, he guesses. At least that sounds intimidating. Plus, he can always appreciate a literary reference. “Howling Wolf” sounds like a new agey hippie’s name. Sounds like something Laura would call him to make fun of him. It’s time to loose the wolf schtick. 

However much he likes the biting. 

Pity. 

\---------

 

Stiles keeps watching the news, keeps up with the papers and his dad’s files, but not much is happening on the “Howling Wolf” front. Sure, a few neighbouring cities have had a couple of murders, but those are larger cities than Beacon Hills. Murders tend to blend. 

So of course he misses it at first. Figures. 

Scumbags not only kill innocent people, they also kill off other scumbags. So when the leader of a biker gang is found strung up by his own bicycle wheel, the police and Stiles himself both assume it was a rival gang. When a skeevy filmmaker is found with his head bashed in with his camera, they assume it was a pissed off employee. When a gardener has been poisoned with aconite, they actually assume it’s a fucking accident, like the guy grabbed the wrong herbs for his afternoon tea. 

None of them have bite marks, so he doesn’t think of the “Howling Wolf”, even though the complete lack of DNA and other trace evidence is kinda his thing. 

It’s only when he stumbles across information about the Argents that he realises his stupidity. 

The Argents used to hunt wolves for sport. Their death was meant to look like a wolf attack. 

The “Howling Wolf” is killing people according to their own wrongdoings. That’s genius. That’s retribution and a glorious, well-thought out kill all at once. 

He’s kind of jealous, actually, even though “Howling Wolf” is not currently in the news because no one knows it’s him. 

So Stiles adopts him method and starts outdoing him, instead. 

Take that, wolf man. 

\-------

"This morning, the police found the body of a 29- year old man. His various orifices had been attacked with cylinder-shaped objects, one of which was left in his mouth as a symbolic silencer. The cause of death seems to be an overdose on various drugs, such as GHB, Rohypnol, Ambien and Xanax. These drugs are often called date rape drugs, which, paired with the cylinder-shaped objects, makes this seem like revenge rape gone wrong." 

Derek stops reading the article there, instead focussing on the use of different drugs and the fact that the guy had been raped by freaking dildo’s. He searches for different articles, and finds one with a comments section. As he’d suspected, there are six anonymous comments, all along the lines of “He got what he deserved. Now I can sleep without having to fear him anymore.” One even states the guy’s name.

Bud Collins. 

His name comes up in several news articles, in which he is suspected of rape. He always gets off, because his lawyer is good and the girls are shaky and scared. He’s seen it a thousand times. 

Bud Collins got what he deserved. But Derek is not the one who did it. 

For a brief moment, he wonders if he’s got a copycat. If someone’s figured out his thing and started mimicking it in order to share in the fame. 

As long as he doesn’t get the blame for murders he didn’t commit, Derek is totally fine with that. He needs to impress the Mountain, after all. 

\-----

So yeah, he got a little revenge-happy with Bud Collins. The guy was in Heather’s Psych 101 class and had always creeped her out. When Stiles found out the guy took Psych 101 every year at different colleges, he found the guy’s hunting ground. He needed to be put down. 

His own name has stopped appearing in the news, no longer of interest now that it’s been six months since a “Mountain” murder. He wonders if he should do something to tip “Howling Wolf” off, so that they can get this competition started for real. 

His next victim is a random woman, just a junkie who didn’t have long left anyway, by the looks of her. He shoots her full of her own drugs and crushes her skull. 

 

By the next day, the news is talking about the Mountain again, but how something was different about this murder. It’s the use of the drugs, of course. He usually goes for the brutal, skull-crushing kill. This one was already dead before he even got to that. 

Lucky her. 

“Why would his M.O have changed?” asks the news anchor. The expert they have hired is one of those true crime writers and actually the one who’s already written a book about his murders. He should be knowledgeable on the subject of Stiles. 

“Maybe he is getting weaker,” Tommy says, his hands spread out on the table in a gesture of “I don’t know”. “Maybe he has lost the confidence to overpower his victims instantly, which is why he resorted to drugs. It’s certainly clear that this is new territory, because she was already dead when he did his signature skull crushing. Which I still believe his with his bare hands.” 

See, Tommy, that doesn’t make any sense. If Stiles is not strong enough to overpower his victim, then why would he be strong enough to crush their skulls using his hands? He’s not an actual Game of Thrones character. For starters, he’s nowhere near the size of Gregor Clegane. 

Seems like Tommy’s had his run writing terrible books. 

He plans the murder carefully. Maybe he should just bash his head in with his own terrible books. It clearly needs to happen in his study, where he produces the shit he then publishes. Maybe add in a scathing review of his books for good measure. 

He’s busy the next night though, with Scott and Allison coming over for dinner and then staying for game night. It’s fun, and it’s been a while since they have done this, so he and Scott end up the kind of drunk where every memory is sad and funny at the same time. Allison had the bad luck to have been designated driver that evening. 

The following morning, the news of Tommy’s shocking death is the headliner. 

His whole body had been covered in ink and a cause of death had yet to be determined. His dad’s file offers some more information later. 

The ink that had been used to write key sections of Tommy’s book on his own body had contained high levels of quick acting poison. Tommy had died within minutes. It was genius, killing him with his own words, literally. 

Stiles is just a little sad he didn’t do it. 

\------

 

Derek’s not sure why he went for it, exactly. Hearing the writer talk about the Mountain on T.V. like he knew him, personally, had irritated him at first. Then, he’d gone on the read some articles by the guy. Those had infuriated him. The guy genuinely seemed to believe he had some connection with the Mountain, something that made him understand the serial killer in a way no one else had. It’s bullshit, of course. No one gets the Mountain like Derek does, which is probably the reason he went over to Tommy’s office, followed him home and killed him. He’d used most of his precious poison stash to do it, but the Mountain was worth it. He didn’t deserve to have this cockroach stealing his fame. 

Of course, Derek has his own slew of reporters and psychologists profiling him, analysing every murder he commits as if every one of them has significance. Apart from Kate and Gerard Argent, most of the murders aren’t personal at all. Just people who bug him or get caught in the crossfire, like Chris and Victoria Argent did by coming home early from their anniversary dinner. 

He can feel himself growing more obsessed with the Mountain, wanting to know who he is. Judging by the locations of his murders, they’re from the same area, but it’s not like there’s a website for serial killers to meet and discuss their hobbies. 

So, when did you first get into murdering people?

It’s ridiculous, but Derek kinda wishes such a website did exist, because it there’s one thing he’s terrible at, it’s meeting people he doesn’t want to kill. 

\------

Stiles is pretty sure it was “Howling Wolf”, considering he likes to kill people the way they lived. The question is why, though. Is he pissed off that Stiles has taken his M.O? Sure, it’s pretty personal, taking a guy’s preferred method of killing, but it’s not like he has a patent on it. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s seen it happen on Dexter, murderers getting the treatment they bestowed onto others. 

Stiles just can’t help himself and delves a little deeper into his dad’s old files. Kate Argent’s death stands out to him, because it feels different from the others. She and Gerard died the same way, burned to death and littered with bite marks, but somehow, Kate had gotten the worst of it. Her head nearly separated from her body due to the bites, which had also littered her breasts and thighs. It all seemed vaguely sexual, like a jilted ex-boyfriend had finally snapped. Just six months before her murder, Kate herself had been questioned in her possible involvement in a house fire. The Hales had all burned to death, except for Peter, Laura and Derek. Peter was still in a coma, recovering from his burns. It seemed unlikely that he’d ever snap out of it. 

Laura and Derek had moved to New York and had only returned to Beacon Hills a couple of years ago, which meant they had never been suspects in the murders of the Argents. Being halfway across the country was a pretty good alibi. Still, something ate at Stiles and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with that line of thinking. No one had even questioned Derek Hale, who had dated Kate Argents for almost a year when he was 16. His dad had always told him that the husband or the boyfriend were always the first suspect, so at the very least Derek Hale should have been questioned about his whereabouts. 

Using his dad’s login and password, he looks up Derek’s address in the system. A loft on the western part of Beacon Hills, pretty secluded from what he can tell. 

Time to stalk Derek Hale. 

\------

Derek is meeting Laura for coffee when he notices a run-down, blue Jeep idling at the corner of his street. He’s never seen that Jeep in his neighbourhood before. The driver is wearing sunglasses and a beanie, and is peering at his phone. Then he looks up and around at the street signs. Derek relaxes and figured the guy is probably lost. He’s not feeling particularly helpful today, though, so he just walks past him and rounds the corner. 

 

Stiles sighs in relief when Derek Hale ignores him and disappears around the corner. He’s watched plenty of cop shows, and he knows how not to act when people are close to blowing your cover. He’s gonna have to drop the Jeep, though, if he plans on stalking Derek Hale some more. 

Which he is, because the guy is hella fine, in addition to being a possible serial killer. 

Just Stiles’ type. 

He starts the car and tries to spot Derek. He’s walking ahead, seemingly looking for someone. Stiles sees Laura before Derek does and parks his Jeep in front of a shoe-store. The Hales enter a coffee shop together. Stiles checks his watch: 11 o’clock exactly, on a Thursday. 

Stiles camps out in the Laundromat opposite the coffee shop three weeks in a row on a Thursday, at exactly eleven o’clock. Laura and Derek always meet at the same time on the same day. He’s yet to notice them on any other days, but he hasn’t tried very hard. He does have a life outside of stalking Derek Hale. 

Today though, he doesn’t have any actual laundry to wash and people seem to frown upon that, so he decides to take it a bit further and actually enters the coffee place himself. 

Kira Yukamura, Scott’s girlfriend, is working behind the counter. Of course, he had forgotten that she worked here. Or maybe he hadn’t even known. He hasn’t talked to Scott in a while, due to his recent obsession and Scott’s own busy school life. Becoming a vet is pretty hardcore. 

“Stiles!” Kira greets him excitedly. “We haven’t seen you in a while! How have you been?” 

Stiles sneaks a glance at the table Derek and Laura are sitting at, but they seem to be having a pretty lively discussion themselves. 

“Great, great, how’ve you been, Kira?” He asks her, just to be polite. He just wants to order his coffee and plant himself close enough to Derek and Laura to overhear their conversation. 

Not that he expects them to be discussing Derek’s latest murder. 

“My thesis is almost done, I just need a few more sources to back up my claims and then I can show my advisor.”   
Stiles nods, scanning the menu above Kira’s head, “Can you get me a coffee, black?” He gestures towards his messenger bag, which contains his laptop, “I need to finish this essay and I’m dying.” She gives him a sympathetic look and gets to work. 

As soon as he has his coffee, which he actually does need, he sits down at the table behind Derek and Laura’s, with his back to them both. This way, he can listen without them seeing his face. 

He gets out his laptop for appearances sake and opens up a random word doc, just so he has something to do while he listens in. 

The conversation Laura and Derek are having is pretty dull, at a first impression. They’re discussing some guy named Jack, who seems to causing Laura some trouble at work. He’s listening with half an ear, when he catches Derek offering to take of it for Laura. 

“Der, you know I don’t want you to have to that. I mean, he’s linked to both of us- it’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll do it differently. No one will even connect it to my usual stuff!” Derek hisses. “That guy is getting out of control, Laura, I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“And I don’t want you to end up in jail! Besides, I’m quitting Storecorps next month, I can take it until then.” 

“Fine, whatever.” Derek mutters. 

Stiles grabs his phone and opens up his browser. Storecorps seems like a standard business, selling office supplies. He’ll have to investigate further to get to this Jack guy. 

He drains his coffee and packs up his laptop quickly, because he needs his Dad’s resources for this. Besides, researching one of the people you’re sitting behind while you’re sitting behind them is awkward and stupid at best. 

\------

Storecorps has one store in Beacon Hills and Laura and Jack both work at the office part of it. Observing them at work is going to be difficult, but Jack does have a record with the police, with a restraining order having been filed against him before. He was also fired from his last job for sexual harassment. He stakes out Storecorps on Monday and Tuesday and is not surprised to find Laura walking briskly to her car, followed by Jack each time. He seems to have the idea that she owes him attention and is being a general slime. Nothing dangerous yet, but he can see why Derek wants to kill the guy. 

Since Derek can’t do it, though, Stiles will have to do it for him. 

On Wednesday, he follows the guy from Storecorps to his apartment. He parks his Jeep a few cars behind Jack and exits quickly once Jack has disappeared inside his apartment building. Luckily, it’s one of the cheaper ones anyone can enter without having to be buzzed in. That would have put a damper on the whole murdering thing. 

Stiles follows Jack up to the third floor and then passes him as Jack stops to open his door, so that he remains unseen by the creep. Once Jack is inside, he goes back outside and waits for the lights to go out with some take-out. 

Finally, at eleven thirty-ish, Jack goes to bed and his apartment dims. Stiles allows him thirty minutes to fall asleep before he goes back up to the third floor. He breaks in using his standard lock-picking set, which his Dad had bought for him at sixteen. The Sheriff had, correctly, assumed that Stiles was being a bit of a criminal and wanted him to do it the right way, at least. 

The lock opens easily and he enters the apartment quietly. It’s cluttered and smelly, pizza boxes and empty beer bottles littering the floor surrounding the ratty sofa. Jack certainly doesn’t take very good care of himself. Stiles knows for a fact that the place the pizza comes from is not the most hygienic, having worked there one disastrous summer himself. 

To ward off all suspicion on “Howling Wolf”, whom he suspects is actually Derek Hale, he decides to go full on Mountain on the dude. He puts on his special gloves, infused with metal padding and grabs his hammer. He has already put on his painter’s suit and plastic mask. 

Stiles sneaks towards the bedroom, where Jack is snoring into his pillow. Quickly, he raises the hammer and brings it down hard against the side of Jack’s head. He doesn’t even wake up. He presses his thumbs against Jack’s eyeballs and pushes, pushes until he hears a sickening squelch that tells him they have popped and them pushes some more so that the blood comes rushing out heavily. Using the hammer, he bashes in Jack’s mouth so that his teeth come free, for a full Game of Thrones “Mountain” attack, the one Tommy had alluded to so much in his last interview. Hah. At least the asshole had his uses. 

He turns and throws the teeth he’s gathered from Jack’s mouth around the room, just for kicks. It’s then he notices a dark shape lingering in the doorway to Jack’s bedroom. He grips the hammer tight and steps towards it. 

“I’ve seen you before.” The shape says calmly, stepping into the bedroom, so Stiles can see him properly. 

As he’d though, Derek fucking Hale, just couldn’t stay away. 

“Should’ve listened to your sister,” Stiles retorts, tearing off his plastic mask. 

\-----

 

Derek licks his lips. The guy- he’s definitely seen him before, once in the blue Jeep, looking lost, once at the coffee shop with Laura, last week. 

Stiles, is what the barista had called him. 

He’s…cute. His dark brown hair is dishevelled, hanging into his equally dark brown eyes, framed by impossibly long lashes. His nose is small and buttony and his lips plush and pink. His skin is gleaming with sweat, probably from all of the smashing. 

He looks away from Stiles and turns towards Jack, laying in his bloody bed, head completely unrecognisable. It sparks something, an image. 

“You’re the Mountain?” Derek blurts out, sounding in awe despite himself. 

Stiles quirks one corner of his mouth up in a twisted smirk, “Heard of me, then, have you?” 

“Yeah…I also heard you’re changing your M.O. That was you, right? The guy with all of the dildo’s?” Derek says, genuinely amused. 

Stiles smiles brightly, seeming proud of himself. “Yep. Sick scumbag deserved it, too. I like it when they deserve it.” He shrugs. “Like Jack, here. Sorry I got to him first, but then again, you got Tommy before I could.” 

Derek squints at him, but Stiles doesn’t appear angry. In fact, he looks like he’s flirting with Derek. 

“Yeah, well. He pissed me off,” Derek mutters. “He had no idea what he was talking about.” He steps closer to Stiles, who drops the bloody hammer onto the bed. 

He grabs Stiles’ gloved hands. “Clever,” he says, stroking the metal pads. He strips them off, hoping that he’s reading this whole thing right. 

“Thanks,” Stiles says, cocking his head to the left. “I like to think so.” He unzips his painter’s suit, revealing a plain black shirt and grey sweatpants underneath. 

He grabs Derek’s neck and then they’re kissing, biting into each other’s mouths. Stiles’s long fingers tug Derek hair and in return Derek slips his into Stiles’ sweatpants. Thank god for fucking sweatpants. Derek does like easy access. 

Stiles moans into Derek’s mouth, long and deep, as Derek grabs Stiles’ cock, both of them still dressed. 

“Take it off, c’mon, take it off,” Derek grunts, pulling at Stiles’ cock with one hand while his other hand attempts to get rid of the sweatpants. Stiles releases Derek’s hair to tug his pants down, boxers and all and then fumbles with Derek’s own. Derek is not exactly easy access himself, with his tight jeans. 

“Jesus, did you paint these on?” Stiles complains, but he finally manages to open all of the buttons and Derek’s jeans and boxers join Stiles’ on the floor. Stiles wraps his hand around Derek and himself, jerking them both off in a steady rhythm. It’s dry and a little awkward, but it’s been awhile and soon Derek feels a familiar feeling curl in his spine. 

“Fuck, Stiles, I-“ He groans. “Fuck, yeah, let’s do that” Stiles replies, sounding a little out of control himself, but not nearly enough for Derek’s liking. Quickly, he wets his forefinger in his mouth before teasing it down Stiles’ crack. “Yeah, yeah, go for it.” Stiles pants. 

Slowly, he sinks his finger down into the tight heat, searching for that little bundle of nerves. “Little more- oh fuck, yeah, that’s it. Fuck, Derek…” Stiles encourages, his voice going high-pitched when Derek locates his prostrate. They really need some lube. Derek pulls away and starts going through Jack’s bedside table, locating a bottle of lube and some condoms. 

Stiles lowers onto all fours on the floor and sticks his ass out deliberately. Derek cracks open to lube and coats his fingers generously. The first one slides in easily, and Stiles is quick to complain, “Jesus, Derek, c’mon. I’m not made of fucking glass, okay,” so Derek moves onto a second and third finger quite quickly, fucking into Stiles until he’s a quivering, moaning mess. “I want you, I want you to fuck me already, Derek.” 

At this point, Derek’s own patience is straining, his rock-hard cock bobbing against his stomach in anticipation. He puts on the condom and covers it in lube. He braces himself against Stiles’ back, the tip of his cock sliding teasingly over his stretched hole. 

“Not like this, fuck, my knees are killing me already.” Stiles stands up suddenly, leaving Derek behind on the floor. His cock is right in front of Derek’s face, and he can’t resist guiding it into his mouth with his tongue. Stiles moans loudly, slapping Derek away. “You fucker. You look pretty strong, I bet you could hold me up.” He rests his ass against Jack’s cluttered desk. “Come on, then.” He strokes his long fingers down his own cock, teasing Derek. Derek finally gets off the floor, and grabs Stiles’ legs, spreading them apart roughly, earning him a satisfied grin. He presses the head of his cock against Stiles’ waiting hole, giving Stiles only a few seconds before he presses in, inch by agonising inch. 

He slings one of Stiles’ legs over his shoulder, which means he has to hold Stiles up as his balance slips. Stiles clutches at him with his hands, wrapped tightly around Derek’s biceps. His grip is going to leave marks, but Derek finds that he doesn’t really mind. He keeps pointing his thrusts until Stiles groans loudly, “Yeah, right there, Derek, oh fuck. Keep doing that.” He amps up the tempo and snaps his hips, hammering into Stiles, who yanks Derek’s head down so he can kiss him, both of them gasping into each other’s mouths. 

It doesn’t take much longer before Stiles bites Derek’s lip with a whimper, spilling onto his own belly and Derek follows quickly, emptying into Stiles’ delicious heat. 

\------

 

“Thanks for killing him for me.” Derek says as he gets dressed. 

“No problem.” Stiles replies, as he looks around the room, having gathered any evidence of them in his arms. “Maybe we can do one together next time.”


End file.
